But I Hope
by Meredith T. Tasaki
Summary: Jackie makes mistakes, and learns. You deserve the world, Jackie Tyler. And you've raised a daughter who won't settle for anything less.


Rating: Mm... PG-13 for naughty words?

Summary: Jackie makes mistakes, and learns. "You deserve the world, Jackie Tyler. And you've raised a daughter who won't settle for anything less."

Disclaimer: I have no rights whatsoever to Doctor Who. The closest I imagine I'll ever come is possibly being exterminated by a Dalek yelling "Do not blaspheme!" Well, it's good company, at least.

Lyrics at the beginning and end are from the Dixie Chicks' song "I Hope". It's a bit of a project I have. Excellent album, that, by the way...

Notes: I'm American. For practical purposes, this means I'll probably mess up the syntax. Also, I only know Ten through the last ten seconds of POTW and fanfiction, and I _already_ know he's more sedate than he should be, so... please give me a little leeway.

(-)

_But our children are watching us_

_They put their trust in us_

_They're gonna be like us..._

Jackie Tyler was getting older, and she knew it. Old and fat and a _kid_, no less, and there were some things all the peroxide and willingness in the world couldn't outweigh in the eyes of a bloke.

But Rose needed a father, she thought, and strove blindly to find a man who'd take the part.

She was lonely, and Neville's weight in the bed beside her was a comfort, and he stuck around. Maybe he came home drunk some nights, maybe got a little "domestic", but it wasn't that often, and he said he loved her. It wasn't his fault how he was raised. He'd get better; she could fix it.

Love could outweigh anything in the world in the eyes of a girl.

Except, perhaps, one thing.

She got up one night to find Neville in the kitchen, hand fisted around little Rose's arm, telling her what he'd do to her and her mother if she screamed.

Suddenly, Jackie Tyler understood, and swung at the back of Neville's head with a frying pan.

_Where d'you think people learn these things from? When they're kids, that's what. Better Rose has no dad than one like him. To hell with the psychaiatrists, we'll get along fine, together..._

"Get the hell out of my kitchen!" she yelled, as Rose gleefully kicked Neville in the direction of the door. "And you never come back, you hear!"

"I won't!" Neville yelled. "An' no one else will, either? Y'think anyone else wants _you_? Or that little bitch of a daughter?"

"You're _worthless_," Jackie snapped. "And my little bitch of a daughter deserves better than YOU!"

She slammed the door behind him and leaned against it, dusting off her hands. "Did he hurt you, sweet'art?"

Rose nodded mutely.

"Let me see your arm, sweetings." She examined it; shouldn't be anything more than a bruise, thank God. "Don't you worry. He's not comin' back. If 'e does, we'll just get 'im with the frying pan again. All right?"

Rose nodded.

"Good. You go back to bed, now, sweet'art."

"I wanted some water," said Rose.

"I'll get you some, then." Jackie filled a glass. "Now scoot."

Rose obeyed the gentle push, then turned. "Mummy? Did he hurt you?"

"He's not comin' back, sweet'art."

"Did he hurt you, too?"

Jackie wasn't sure what to answer. The truth, but that was unpleasant, and... embarassing, somehow...

"Why did you let him stay with you if he hurt you?" Rose asked.

An Excellent Question, Jackie knew. "I don't know, sweet'art. But it won't ever happen again, a'right?"

Rose shook her head. "No. 'Cos I won't let 'em. If any of those men are mean again, then _whack_! I'll hit 'em with the frying pan."

Jackie felt a smile creep onto her face. "I don't think you could lift the frying pan yet, sweetings."

"Well, I'll _kick_ him then." Rose nodded decisively. "If someone hurts you, I'll _kick_ them."

"All right. But first, it's bedtime, Rose. Come on."

She tucked Rose in, kissed her forehead, and watched her from the doorway, not knowing why.

Thus Jackie Tyler began to learn.

(-)

Jackie Tyler never stayed with a man who hit her again. Oh, she _found_ plenty of 'em, but one whack and they were out of her life. She'd learned that lesson. And taught it to Rose, too. "Never stay with a man 'oo hits you. They don't love you. An' you can't fix 'em."

Rose always nodded. Her Rose. Decent grades in school, these days; she could probably get her A-levels if she studied, and Jackie spent most of her time these days wondering how she'd get Rose to university. They were still in the council estates, after all, and Jackie was afraid she just wouldn't have the money to give her daughter a _proper_ education...

"This is Jimmy," Rose said when she was sixteen, gesturing to a sandy-haired boy with sunglasses and a motorcycle jacket. "Jimmy, this is my Mum."

"Hi," said Jimmy. "Rose, we're gonna be late."

"Right. Mum, we're going to a movie. We'll be back by eleven. See you!"

Jackie waved goodbye.

Later, she'd make a list of the questions she should have asked instead, in rough order.

_How old is this Jimmy boy?_

_Where did you meet him?_

_Is that a motorbike he's driving?_

_Does he have a permit for that?_

_Why does he have so many tattoos?_

_Did he tell you he loves you?_

_Are you stupid enough to run away with him just because he said something like that?_

And, later:

_Don't you realize you deserve so much _more

(-)

When Rose was seventeen, Jackie finally got the final notice from the school saying she'd been expelled for nonattendance. (And several lesser crimes, but those didn't matter right then.)

"He loves me!" Rose had yelled at her, across the table. "He's a great person and he loves me an' he's gonna marry me someday!"

"A great _person_! He's a damned stoner musician who sits around poking at his guitar and smoking weed! He's _useless,_ Rose! He doesn't love you! He just wants someone who'll clean up his mess and be a good shag!" Jackie clapped her hand to her mouth. "Please tell me you haven't."

"He does _so_ love me, Mum! What-- you don't think that anyone _could_?"

"Rose, that isn't--"

"He loves me! An' he's _really good_! His band's going to the top an' we'll travel the world together and we'll get out of this stinking _pit_ and I _hate _you!"

"Rose--"

"I HATE you!"

The door slammed, and Jackie stared at it. _He's lying, and she deserves so much more! More than just _enough_, more than just someone who won't hit her--_

More than what Jackie had been settling for all these years.

_Oh, my god. Did I teach her this? Did I...?_

Jackie sat down, slowly, at the kitchen table, and put her head in her hands.

_She's worth more than this. And she's throwing it away..._

(-)

Four months later, Rose came back home, weary and years older. She'd caught Jimmy with another girl, and his reaction to being confronted had been "Don't you wanna jump in?"

Rose had thrown away her future for a promise, and she didn't want to hear about it.

Jackie, for once, didn't want to say a word.

Rose had sobbed in her arms the first night, but it had still been cool between them for a week or so, until one night they were sitting on the couch watching repeats of _Absolutely Fabulous,_ and Rose looked at her and smiled.

The past was the past, and Jackie wouldn't have been able to scrape together money for university anyway. You couldn't pay for it with a part-time job these days. And it wasn't too late...

Rose got a job, and stayed on with Jackie, and it was good.

Jackie got a new boyfriend, who'd come over once a week, eat dinner, and leave.

"You deserve more than that, you know," Rose said, one day.

"Jim's a decent guy."

"You deserve more than decent, mum."

"An' when I find something more than decent, I'll let you know."

Rose sighed and let it drop.

Rose got a new boyfriend herself, named Mickey. He was nice enough. Smart. Trustworthy. Decent.

Jackie couldn't shake the feeling that Rose deserved more than that.

Or the nagging suspicion that maybe she did, too.

(-)

Just when Jackie had thought Rose had learned her lesson, she ran away with the first moody alien with a leather jacket and a time machine who came along.

Not that she'd _told_ her that. No, she'd just disappeared, leaving Jackie terrified that she was dead, at the bottom of the Thames somewhere, in some pervert's basement, sold into slavery...

...Or that Mickey had done it, and Jackie's teaching her daughter that all she deserved was "decent" had killed the girl she loved most in all the world.

But no, it was a crotchety alien with a time machine. Figured.

Though the bloke sure knew how to work a leather jacket. Damn the man.

What was worse, she never could _corner_ the bastard, figure out if he was just a more exotic Jimmy Stone who'd charmed her daughter into dying for him.

Because it _was_ dangerous. He knew it. He admitted it himself. He was guilty about it, too-- it was there in the way he never promised her Rose would be safe.

But Rose was staying with him, and there was nothing she could do except wish her all the luck in the universe.

She'd need it.

(-)

One day, the cranky alien had sent Rose back home, and she'd practically forgiven him for everything right then and there.

(She was still a bit touchy about the gone-for-a-year bit. She thought that was perfectly understandable.)

But Rose didn't want to stay. She wanted to save him. She wanted...

..._More._

And she was right; she'd gotten that from her father. Jackie knew her place, she knew what to expect. Peter never had. Peter had been full of crazy ideas and pipe dreams and, well, _hope_.

He wanted more, for himself, and them, and everyone, despite his many faults.

Not another Jimmy Stone, Jackie learned. Not another anything. Rose didn't want a promise, wasn't following a dream, wasn't submitting to anything. Rose was being... _more._

So Jackie blackmailed Rodrigo into loaning her a tow truck and went to help her daughter save the world.

Because Rose should be more. Rose should be anything she wanted, and Jackie would be damned if she didn't do everything possible to help.

Jackie Tyler was learning.

That didn't make it any less terrifying when her daughter disappeared.

(-)

Rose came back with a prettier, less cranky alien, and Jackie figured that was all to the good. She could actually talk to the man now. Not that she got much _out_ of it, but it at least was conversation.

She still hadn't gotten her answer from him, and she told him that one night when Rose was out getting milk.

"I don't _have_ an answer for that," he said, putting down his tea. "No one can promise you that. If anyone does, they're lying. You must understand that."

"I don't want her hurt," said Jackie.

"Neither do I."

"But she's going to be, isn't she?"

"Not if I can help it."

"But maybe there'll be nothing you can do."

"No."

Jackie stared down at her pan. "She knows she doesn't have to do this?"

"Of _course_ she does. D'you really think I'd try to keep her against her will?"

"How the hell should I know!" she snapped. "I've known you for all of three days! I don't know what you're like! Anyone can be charming. Anyone can give you promises."

"I didn't," he said, and it was true.

"I just... she ran off with some boy before. Promised 'er the moon-- and not even the _real_ moon, then. Broke her heart, 'cos I guess she thought... she learned from me that you take the best you can get and don't ask questions. She thought 'e was the best she could get. And I... I worry, sometimes."

"She doesn't do that," said the Doctor. "Rose doesn't settle. She fights. She dreams. She hopes."

Jackie nodded, because she knew it was true.

"Rose doesn't settle for anything. There's a lot of you in her."

Jackie looked over at the Doctor, who was smiling softly. "We've had our... differences..." he said, "but one thing you've never been is weak. You deserve the world, Jackie Tyler. And you've raised a daughter who won't settle for anything less."

Jackie felt a smile creep onto her face. She didn't want to like him. She wanted to hate him. But he was right, and he was good.

And he knew how to work a pair of spectacles. Damn the man.

"I'm home!" Rose called. "Please tell me you're both still alive. Mum, you didn't poison anything?"

"Nah, why'd I bother?" Jackie said, turning back to her cooking. "My luck, 'e'd just come back all grouchy again. I'm not chancin' it."

'Sides... he'd probably manage to kill _himself_ again soon enough.

And that... would be a shame.

(-)

Two nights later, Jackie was in the bar when Mike came on to her again.

Mike was a decent bloke. Nice hair, good job, passable face. Might look elsewhere if she refused.

Trouble was, she didn't really like him that much. And for some reason, she wasn't feeling lonely tonight.

"Go away, Mike, I'm tryin' to 'ave a beer," she said, and drank deeply.

Jackie Tyler was learning.

(-)

_There must be a way _

_To change what's going on..._

_No, I don't have all the answers..._

_But I hope..._


End file.
